


Three Days

by panaili



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Infestation, Body Horror, Body Stealing, Gen, Halloween Horror Story, Horror, Lance gets infested, Mind Control, Mind Rape, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Violence, inspired by Animorphs, not a happy fic, set pre-season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 20:05:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12515488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panaili/pseuds/panaili
Summary: He couldn’t move.Something else was moving him.So you’ve figured it out?There was a voice in his head. It was silky smooth, so gentle he hadn’t noticed it at first, but now that Lance figured it out, it felt like thousands of insects swarming along the crevices of his brain. He wanted to shudder, shout,scream, but his body stayed calm as it examined itself.This is my body now, the voice whispered.





	Three Days

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings in the description. They are there for a reason.

 

 

 

 

His head hurt. 

_A human?_  

Lance stared blankly at the rocks around him, limbs heavy and face numb. He couldn’t remember what he had been doing. 

_Never found a human before. Such potential, yes... Such vibrant feelings._  

He was in a small alcove along the lake, resting against a small pool of water. A hazy memory flickered across his mind: seeing something moving under the water, reaching to touch the surface, and then— 

A shock. 

_A paladin?_  

His vision suddenly wavered, and Lance realized that he was standing up. He could feel his legs shifting beneath him, bare feet gripping on slick rocks. His swimsuit still dripped water along the ground at his feet. 

His eyes turned to examine the cave, but Lance wasn’t the one doing that.

He wasn’t moving at all.

_Oh, no, Lance._

He couldn’t move. 

Something else was moving him. 

_So you’ve figured it out?_

There was a voice in his head. It was silky smooth, so gentle he hadn’t noticed it at first, but now that Lance figured it out, it felt like thousands of insects swarming along the crevices of his brain. He wanted to shudder, shout, _scream_ , but his body stayed calm as it examined itself. 

_This is my body now_ , the voice whispered.

 

 

-

 

 

The creature’s name was Artem, and it seemed amused the entire time Lance struggled to regain control.

_Don’t bother,_ Artem advised, words cold against Lance’s fevered panic. _No host has ever evaded my control, not even one of the Voltron paladins_. 

The statement cut through his terror like a knife, and for a moment Lance could only watch as Artem walked down the dirt path back to the Olkarian city. Memories flashed through his mind—the desire to go for a swim, to escape the stifling castle for a few hours—only to pause as he realized that Artem could _see what he was thinking_.

_Of course I can,_ the parasite replied. _How else would I know your name?_  

Lance wanted to reel back, wanted to scramble away, but his limbs wouldn’t respond. He floated in his mind, feeling the chill breeze against his damp skin but unable to move a single muscle. 

Unbidden, he thought, _but how—?_  

A flash of foreign thoughts brushed through his mind: images of refugees being guided from a gleaming rescue craft into the vast Olkarian forest. One of the aliens pulled away, emaciated and gasping. Lance could feel it dying in his bones. The sick refugee stumbled to the cave, collapsing in a nearby pool. 

_My former host was weak_ , Artem murmured, the impression of a sneer on its silent voice. _Barely lasted me a month. I’m sure his family has already burned him away. But you, oh—you, Lance, are perfect. Young, strong, a fighter! And your team will make excellent hosts for my eggs._  

Fear stung sharply through his mind, and Lance viciously thought, _no! Stay away from them! I won’t let you!_  

_Oh? And how will you stop me?_  

A sting shot through his thoughts as Artem pulled up image after image of his team—Keith rolling his eyes and Shiro smiling fondly at him; Pidge and Hunk laughing at some joke he’d made; Allura and Coran asking for an explanation on some Earth thing— 

_They’ll be a perfect start to my new colony,_ Artem proclaimed. It stretched Lance’s arms overhead, eyes catching the glimmer of sunlight through the tall trees. _These senses are fantastic. Such raw power, such virile drive—_  

More memories flashed, each one torn from his mind like pages in a book. 

Eating a garlic knot, a piece of chocolate cake, a new pasta that Hunk had found and whipped up into a creamy alfredo; standing by his mother’s side as she made arroz con pollo, breathing in the spicy scent of peppers and seasoned chicken— 

Fighting the Gladiator, blood pumping in his veins; clashing against Keith and feeling the hit reverberate through his arms, just painful enough to urge on his return strike—

Eyes catching on the curve of a pretty girl’s chest and the blush in her cheeks, grinning as he felt his interest pique; drunk on beer and excitement on an illicit trip from the Garrison, kissing an attractive stranger as classmates hooted behind them— 

_Oh yes, this body will do nicely_ , Artem whispered, vicious glee echoing in its tone. _With the power of the Alteans’ ship, my colony can go anywhere—we could settle on Earth, even, to find even more of these delicious urges, these brilliant senses—millions of human cattle to be devoured!_  

_They’ll know_ , Lance thought, desperately. He couldn’t tell which one of them he was trying to convince, but either way, it didn’t work. Dread filled his heart. _The others will figure it out. They’ll know, they’ll stop you—_

Artem’s amusement spread through their brain, and on the outside, Lance could feel it chuckling like it had just thought of a funny joke. A couple refugees passed by and barely spared him a glance.

_Oh Lance_ , the monster hissed. _They never know_.

 

 

-

 

 

Lance held out hope.

The parasite walked into the Castle of Lions, meandering up the bright halls and admiring their sleek appearance. Rather than avoid the others, Artem went straight into the busy lounge. 

“Oh, Lance, there you are!” Coran said, perking up from his tablet. “I wanted to let you know that the Yllenth people were very pleased with your visit the other day. Apparently you have quite a number of young admirers!” 

“Clearly the Yllenth people don’t have much taste,” Keith murmured, though his tone held little bite and Lance could almost see a faint smirk. He was newly returned from one of his many trips with the Blade of Marmora and still wore the dark suit. 

Lance waited for them to notice something off, something strange, but— 

Artem flung itself down on the couch between Hunk and Pidge, leaning just far enough onto Pidge to make her squawk and pull her laptop away, protesting, “Oh, _come on_ , you’re still all wet—!” 

“My public loves me, Coran!” Lance said. Or rather, Artem said, imitating Lance’s self-aggrandizing tone perfectly. It even remembered to smirk over at Hunk when the other boy carefully put his arm between the monster and Pidge, lest she exact her revenge. 

“They also asked if you could bring Shiro with you next time,” Coran added. 

“Wait, what?” Shiro asked, looking away from his conversation with Allura at the mention of his name. 

“Ha,” Pidge teased, poking Artem in the side. “Second best!” 

“Can’t have too much of a good thing,” Artem replied easily, grinning. 

Lance stared out through his own eyes, helplessly watching as Artem hijacked his body and joked with his friends, as easy and natural as breathing. 

His heart went cold. 

None of them noticed anything different. 

_Like I said,_ Artem whispered even as it began to squabble with Keith, body held loose and calm. _They never suspect. Not until you start to fade. But I’ll have my eggs growing by then. And then Voltron will spread my colonies across the galaxy._  

Artem’s pleasure burned through its mind, and Lance could even feel its mouth twitch in a tiny, momentary smirk of triumph.

No one noticed.

 

 

-

 

 

The entire evening passed by in a hazy string of disappointments. 

Artem played video games with Pidge, enjoying the rush of the competition and even remembering not to trigger the trap on the fifth level. Pidge smirked when she blew past its high score, not noticing anything different.

It helped Hunk make dinner and snuck little bites of food, savoring each morsel with rapturous glee and extoling over the human sense of taste. Hunk laughed at all its jokes. 

Artem challenged Keith to a mock swordfight. It knew it would lose, but spent the whole match reveling in the rush of adrenaline, giddy with the blood rush. Keith even spared it a rare smile. 

It teased Allura and chatted with Coran and even suggested potential Galra targets to Shiro, and no one batted an eye.

Lance wanted to scream. _Can’t you see this isn’t me? Can’t you tell?_  

He twisted and struggled and fought until he felt wrung out and beaten, but it made no difference. His body didn’t respond. He couldn’t so much as flutter an eyelash. 

All the while, Artem lost itself in human senses. 

_My last host had a better sense of smell_ , it told Lance as it gobbled down Hunk’s dinner with relish. _But your eyesight is better. And this sense of taste! Magnificent! I’ve been in hosts dominated by hunger, but not with such a wide grasp of flavors._  

It all tasted like ash to Lance, but then, he wasn’t the one eating anymore.

 

 

-

 

 

Lance spent the night coming up with increasingly desperate plans to escape. 

Artem was lying in bed, eyes closed, but Lance didn’t feel the exhaustion as he normally did. He existed in stasis, separated from his body and hanging in muted limbo. Over and over again, he considered ways that he could surprise Artem and take back control, even just for a second, just long enough to let everyone know something was _wrong_ —

_Give it up, Lance_ , Artem told him after a few hours of panicked planning. _You were doomed the moment I entered your head._

 

 

-

 

 

His best chance came the next morning at breakfast. 

Artem woke up early— _that’s not like me!_ Lance had crowed, taking any victory he could, but Artem simply replied, _a single deviation in habit means nothing_ —and made its way down to kitchen. 

Hunk was inside as he always was, humming some song under his breath as he stirred a concoction they all referred to as Altean oatmeal, even though it was bright green. 

Lance waited until Hunk turned to him, knowing that if _anyone_ were going to figure it out, it would be Hunk. They’d known each other for years and were best friends. And even if that wasn’t enough, Hunk was easily one of the most suspicious people Lance had ever met. He had to know something was off. He just had to.

Hunk grinned over at him, a bowl of breakfast ready in his hands. “Hey, you’re up already? Am I hallucinating?” 

Lance focused all his effort, desperately trying to steal back even the barest movement. Even just a twitch of the eye would be weird enough to draw Hunk’s interest. Hunk was always excessively nosy, a fact that amused Lance and frustrated Pidge, and now he was relying on it. 

He concentrated on moving even the slightest bit. Just a twitch of his outstretched fingers would be enough.

Nothing happened. Not even a flicker. 

Instead, Artem took the bowl with a smooth flair, smirking. “Gotta keep you all on your toes somehow.” It sat down at the table and proceeded to scoop Olkarian preserves into his bowl. 

_I own you now, Lance_ , Artem said as it scooped the too-sugary oatmeal into its mouth, thrilling at the sickly sweet taste. _The sooner you accept that, the easier it’ll be_. 

Out loud, Artem said, “Fantastic as always, Hunk, thanks!” and Lance felt his fleeting hope shatter.

 

 

-

 

 

Artem ran a copy of his life with precision, leaving little for Lance to do but panic and despair over how he was leading them all to their doom. 

_So dramatic,_ Artem murmured. It even rolled Lance’s eyes to emphasize the jab. _You won’t die for another year at least. And Team Voltron will have the great honor of helping to revive my civilization. We have dwindled too much since the Galra overtook our planet. Those filthy mongrels aren’t suitable hosts at all._  

Lance sat in the corner of his mind, opting to minimize talking to the demon infesting his brain, but that revelation made him take notice. 

_Oh, right, the other paladin_ , Artem said, reading his thoughts. _Keith. Half-Galra? So the proud beasts enjoy making mutts?_  

For a brief moment, Lance thought there might be a snag in Artem’s plan, something they could capitalize on, but then— 

_No matter. I’ll just kill him instead._  

The words were like ice down his spine. 

_Oh, what do you care anyway, Lance? Don’t you hate the guy? I’ll be doing you a favor._  

In that moment Lance knew with crystal clarity that he didn’t hate Keith, not even a little, but Artem didn’t care.

 

 

-

 

 

The Red Lion wouldn’t open for Artem. 

Lance could feel Artem growing annoyed as it tried yet again to coerce the force field to drop. 

“What’s going on, Lance?” Shiro asked through the helmet communicator. “Everyone else is at their Lions. You’re the only one dragging.” 

“Uh,” Artem replied, digging through Lance’s memories for an appropriate response even as it growled and kicked at the force field around Red. “He’s not letting me in. It’s like what happened with Blue! Keith, tell your Lion to get over himself!” 

“He’s not my Lion anymore,” Keith replied, with clear irritation. “What’d you do?”

“I didn’t do anything! He just won’t let me in!” 

“Well, there’s no time to figure it out now,” Shiro cut in with a decisive tone. “Keith, lead the others to help escort the supplies. With any luck, it’ll be an easy trip. Lance, come on up to the bridge. We can troubleshoot what went wrong later.” 

For the first time, Lance could feel something less than absolute confidence emanating from Artem. 

_Bet you didn’t see that coming_ , Lance sniped at the monster, barely resisting the urge to crow with delight at the turn of events. He hadn’t thought the Lions would be his saving grace, but now he wanted to run and give the Red Lion a kiss. Of course the Lions would know! They connected with their paladins on a deeper level. There’s no way Artem could mirror the mental bond that was needed to pilot. 

_If I have to change my timeline, so be it_ , Artem replied coolly, arrogance returning to its tone. _I’ll still be starting my colony with you as my host. Even if I have to slaughter every one of your friends to do it._  

The cold practicality in its words froze Lance’s cheer in an instant. 

_It’d be easy_ , Artem continued. _You’re a sniper, Lance. I can kill them all without anyone the wiser. I’d take out Shiro first, then Keith and Allura. Hunk and Pidge would be easy to pick off after that. Coran isn’t even a warrior._  

_You really think you’re that good_? Lance sneered, trying to take a brave front against his fear. _You clearly haven’t read my memories as thoroughly as you think. We’re not an easy group to beat. Just ask the Galra._  

_Your memories are exactly why I’ll win_ , Artem replied. It didn’t even sound angry. _Pidge isn’t the only one who takes notes of her teammates’ weaknesses. You do it, too, even if you’re not fully aware of it. I know exactly how I’d plan my attack. So I’d consider how much blood you want on your hands before you start cheering for my destruction, Lance._

Lance didn’t reply.

 

 

-

 

 

The post-battle review didn’t reveal any reason for the Red Lion’s refusal, and Artem seemed perfectly happy with that. 

“I don’t know, man,” Artem said, shrugging and making a face at Keith. “Maybe I accidentally insulted him. I’ll go down to apologize tonight and see if that helps.” 

“You’re not taking this seriously enough,” Keith snapped. “I’m leaving tonight for another Blade mission – what if an emergency comes up? It’ll leave us with only three Lions!” 

“I am taking it seriously!” Artem replied. Lance felt it rifling through his memories, seeking out an appropriate response, and gave a mental shudder at the slimy feeling it gave him. “I just… this is the second time a Lion has shut me down. Maybe it’s just _me_ they don’t like.” 

The edge of vulnerability to the words cut through Keith’s aggression, and the shorter boy stepped back, shoulders slumping. When Artem looked back at him— after looking away, because Artem was a fucking _drama queen_ , and seriously, Keith should know that this conversation was going too easily— Keith was watching with a calmer expression on his face. 

“I don’t know what happened today,” Artem added, meeting his eyes. “But I promise I’ll figure it out.” 

Keith stared for a moment longer, evaluating the other’s sincerity, but he soon nodded. Quietly, he said, “Okay. I hope you’re able to make it work. Maybe you could… meditate or something?” 

He didn’t sound convinced of his own suggestion, like he was just mimicking what he thought Shiro would advise instead. 

Inside his head, Lance struggled against his bondage, desperate to do something to clue Keith in to his infested state. He was so close. _It’s not me! It’s not me, that’s why the Red Lion shut me out, it’s not me not me NOT ME—_  

“Sure, dude,” Artem said, shooting Keith a cocky grin. “I’ll head down there now. But shouldn’t you be getting ready to go show off for Kolivan?” 

Keith rolled his eyes, the last vestiges of suspicion fading from his eyes, and Lance felt like screaming.

 

 

-

 

 

At dinner, Artem ate heaps of the salty, pink-tinged pasta that Hunk whipped up. 

“Hey, save some for Allura, Coran, and Shiro,” Hunk warned, stealing the pot away from the table after Artem piled on its third helping. “They have that meeting with a group of the refugees tonight, so we have to save them some.” 

“It’s awesome,” Artem said, happily sucking down more noodles even as Lance felt their stomach ache with fullness. “What is it?” 

“I… don’t want to say.” 

The pause drew Pidge’s attention from the other side of the table, where she was still working on her first bowl. “Wait. Why don’t you want to tell us? _What_ aren’t you telling us?” 

“Who cares?” Artem said. Part of Lance clung to the hope that one of them would pick up on how weird that was— even people with broad palates cared about what they were eating, _come on_ — but the past two days had left him depressingly doubtful about what people picked up on. He’d never been a picky eater before, not enough for this to ping on Hunk’s radar. 

“Me,” Pidge replied. “I care. I care a lot. What are you having me eat, Hunk? I have way too many allergies for you to be keeping secrets.” 

“W-e-ell, I already know all your allergies, and you’ve clearly eaten some and you’re still fine, so what’s the difference?” 

“ _Hunk_.” 

“Oh fine,” Hunk said, giving up. “The sauce is made with fish eggs. That’s why it’s so salty.” 

A pause, and then, “Oh _gross,_ Hunk!” 

“No! Not gross! Delicious! People eat the same kind of thing on Earth—” 

“You need to give warnings when you start messing around with weird ingredients!” 

“We’re in space, _every_ ingredient is weird!” Hunk protested. “If I warned you about everything, you’d never eat! You’re too skinny to starve, Pidge!” 

Artem watched the fight with amusement, happily eating all the while, and Lance shrank away in his mind. All he wanted to do was join their stupid fight about fish eggs, but his body remained stolen from him. 

They had no idea. They had no idea what Artem had planned, and it was Lance’s fault that they’d be infested as well. He winced at the pain tearing at his heart, worried and sick and terrified. 

Artem ate until Lance physically couldn’t anymore. It spent the next hour vomiting in the bathroom, reveling over even that sensation.

 

 

-

 

 

In the dark of Lance’s room, Artem closed its eyes in a facsimile of sleeping. 

_I’m going to enjoy this body,_ it murmured thoughtfully, a smile playing on its lips. _Humans have such dynamic senses and feelings, both predator and prey alike. Even your memories are full of them._  

Shoved into the corner of his mind, Lance bit back the urge to roll his eyes at the friendly charade. Without thinking, he snapped, _what, do you slugs just flop around senseless all the time?_

For a long time, Artem didn’t respond. When it finally spoke, its tone was laced with cold malice. _My people weren’t gifted with the abilities that you take for granted, Lance. Our senses are like shadows compared to yours. Truly, it’s a shame._  

For a brief moment, Lance thought he heard something akin to humility in Artem’s words, but then the parasite continued. 

_Except for one thing, of course. My people are the only ones I’ve ever known with the ability to control other minds,_ Artem gloated. _Your senses mean nothing once I control them. I can experience the abilities of millions of creatures, while you’re stuck with nothing more than your own_. 

_They’re still mine, though,_ Lance replied, annoyance overtaking his fear. _You’re nothing but a parasite leeching off the world._  

_If that’s how you choose to see it_ , Artem replied, the anger leaking from its silent voice until it sounded almost conversational. Somehow, the sudden lack of anger worried Lance more. _Personally, I enjoy seeing what new sensations I can experience. Like I said, humans are very dynamic. You experience your emotions so strongly. The exhaustion of crying, the delight in eating something delicious, even the bloodlust of battle—its all a function of your body. Though I suppose I haven’t experienced all of it quite yet._  

Lance wasn’t entirely sure where Artem was going with its soliloquy, but he could feel the edge of cold glee in the monster’s tone. He waited warily as Artem shifted on the bed, stretching its arms overhead and groaning at the sensation that trickled down its body from the stretch. 

_Yes, such a responsive body, especially at your age. Prime for mating, isn’t that right?_  

Without further warning, Artem shoved a hand down Lance’s pants and started fondling at his dick. 

_No, no, no_ , Lance whispered in horrified disbelief. He wished there was a mental equivalent of sticking his fingers in his ears, but he was forced to watch it. He felt sick in his soul even as Artem’s attention made a pleasant tingle shoot down to its groin. 

Artem groaned at the sensation, a nauseating sound, and moved its hand faster on the shaft. _What a fantastic feeling,_ it hissed, the voice everywhere in Lance’s head no matter how much he tried to shut it out. _If it’s really better with a partner, I’ll have to give that a try. Goodness knows you don’t have any clue._  

It flipped through Lance’s scant memories: making out with a handful of pretty, flirty girls; enjoying a single drunken blowjob that abruptly ended when a collection of friends barged into the room and caught them at it. Dread filled his soul as Artem flicked through his vague fantasies, each more mortifying than the last. All the while, Artem jerked Lance off, taking malicious delight from Lance’s increasing horror as it paged through his mind. 

_Maybe I’ll find someone here,_ Artem mused, reveling in the hot pleasure that collected in the base of its penis. _Allura would be fantastic, though that seems unlikely. Maybe we could go find Pidge, she’d be easy to hold down—_  

Horror shot through Lance as he cringed away from the words. _NO, NO, NO_ , he thought desperately, helpless to stop the growing pleasure in his body. He had never wanted to cry so much in his life, but his body arched in carnal joy instead

Artem came with a loud groan, and Lance felt himself crumble away inside his own mind, heart sick from the memories.

 

 

-

 

 

At breakfast the next morning, Artem looked up to see Hunk staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“What?” Artem asked after swallowing down another heaping spoonful of Altean oatmeal. It was already on its second bowl of the overly sweet concoction, and Lance could feel their stomach rebelling. 

_You’re going to make us sick again_ , he muttered. _How can you even stand that stuff?_  

_You’d understand if you’d gone for years without any flavor receptors,_ Artem snidely shot back. 

In front of them, Hunk blinked, like he wasn’t aware of his staring. “Oh,” he started, waving a dismissive hand. “I was just curious why you’ve started adding so much jam to your oatmeal. You were making fun of Pidge for that just last month.”

Artem shrugged. “I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong,” it replied loftily, winking at Hunk to lessen the smug tone. Pinging on a very real memory of Lance’s, it added, “Besides, she cornered me and threatened to give me a lecture on taste buds, so I gave in and promised I’d try it.” 

“Really?” Hunk said, laughing. Then, thoughtfully, he said, “Y’know, I wouldn’t mind hearing that, actually. Lemme go find her—” 

Artem rolled its eyes and waved him off, continuing to shove more oatmeal into its mouth. 

Lance snarled, _seriously, if you make us sick again—_  

_Worth it,_ Artem replied, even as their stomach roiled.

 

 

-

 

 

Artem spent all morning in the hanger trying to reconnect with the Red Lion. 

Or, at least, that’s what it told the others. In reality, Artem spent its time examining the various Altean shuttles for potential transportation options. 

_If I have to move my plan up due to the Lion issue, I’ll need to take one of these_ , it explained to Lance. He hadn’t asked, but Artem seemed to take pleasure in rubbing salt in the wound of his possession. _The Castle ship would be best, but I don’t have time to grow an egg to infest the Princess._  

_Thank god for small favors_ , Lance sniped back. 

Artem turned its attention to Lance, lingering in silence for a long moment as it bled smug amusement into their shared mind.

_I can still kill them all before I leave_ , Artem murmured with dark promise in its tone. _Remember that._

 

 

-

 

 

When Artem finally left the hanger for lunch, it caught sight of Hunk, Allura, and Pidge down the hall. Pidge was in her full paladin armor and took off in the opposite direction before they drew near enough to hear the conversation. 

“What’s up with her?” Artem asked as it approached. It looked at Allura quizzically, knowing from Lance’s memories that she usually directed their movements. “Isn’t she staying for lunch?” 

Allura paused just long enough that a trickle of suspicion entered Artem’s mind, drawing Lance’s attention. Before it could give voice to that feeling, Allura said, “Oh, it’s nothing, Lance. Some of the refugees were having troubles with the Olkari technology. Shiro and Coran are trying to help, but they sent me back to get Pidge.” 

_Why would she hesitate to say that?_ Artem asked, puzzling over the brief incongruence. 

_Probably because she knows we’ve been bored with only doing propaganda,_ Lance replied glumly. He still held out desperate hope that _someone_ would ping on his situation, but it had been three days since Artem had taken residence in his mind and no one seemed to notice. He was starting to come to the bleak realization that they never would. Not until Artem made its escape or worse. 

He had waking nightmares of hallways splattered with blood, filled with the mangled bodies of his friends, and Artem only encouraged it. 

Before Artem could comment more on the situation, Hunk wrapped an arm around its shoulders, grinning. “But speaking of lunch, wanna help me set up? You’ve been eating so much, I swear you’re about to have another growth spurt.”

“What can I say?” Artem replied, laughing and letting its suspicion drop. “I’m a growing boy.”

 

 

-

 

 

By the evening, Allura had vanished again to assist with the refugees as well, leaving just Hunk in the castle. Lance could feel Artem plotting, debating the merits of using their brief moment of relative privacy to make its escape. It went back down to the hanger bay for a few hours, quietly making modifications on one of the shuttles just in case.

Before it could make a decision, however, Hunk stopped by the hanger. “Hey, Lance, could you help me for a second in the lab? I’m making a repair on one of Pidge’s systems that needs two hands.”

“No problem, buddy,” Artem replied smoothly, with only half its attention. It followed Hunk down to the lab, where Pidge and Hunk had cluttered the area with various piles of space junk. 

Hunk walked over to the far corner. A number of machines were running, piled one on top of the other and lined up in three rows of racks that towered at least a foot above Hunk’s head. Lance only recognized half of them, spoils from various battles with the Galra. 

“So?” Artem said, drawing up beside Hunk to stare at the furthest machine on the right. It was the only section not running. “Do we need to troubleshoot it or something?” 

“Something like that,” Hunk said vaguely. He turned to face Lance, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, if we’re wrong about this, I’m sorry.” 

“What?” Artem asked, but just then, it caught a glimpse of movement reflecting off one of the monitors. Its eyes went wide, making as if to turn, but a sharp shock jolted through its body before it could strike. 

The world went dark just as Lance caught sight of Pidge standing over him, green bayard glowing in her hands.

 

 

-

 

 

Their senses returned slowly. 

“—ow does it work again?” 

“Their tech guy said it’s just a point and shoot thing. First the scan, and then expulsion.” 

“Okay, but, like, are we sure? I don’t want to accidentally shoot Lance in the head over a technical glitch.” 

Artem kept its eyes closed, but Lance was awake enough to feel out the situation. His hands were bound behind his back, braced against what Lance assumed was a chair. He could feel Artem’s rage boiling up as it realized what had happened. Lance could feel it clenching its fists in anger, already tugging at the bindings. 

_Oh my god_ , Lance said in disbelief, genuine hope flaring in his heart. _They figured it out! They’re going to stop you, you disgusting monster—_

_All they’ve done is signed their death warrant_ , Artem hissed darkly, flashing a crystal clear picture of their bloody bodies from Lance’s nightmares. Lance reeled back against the image, unable to block it out. 

Artem looked up weakly, blinking at the sight of Hunk and Pidge standing over it. Hunk was still in lounging clothes, but Pidge was in her full armor, sans helmet. 

“Guys…?” the monster asked in a tone that belied its fury. “What’s going on? Why… why’d you attack me?” 

Hunk winced at its pleading tone, but Pidge just narrowed her eyes. 

“Stop play-acting,” she replied flatly. “We know you’re not Lance.” 

“What?” Artem asked, with pitch perfect confusion. “C’mon, Pidge, this isn’t funny—” 

“You’re right,” Pidge muttered, turning back to the contraption in her hands, messing with the settings. “It’s really not.” 

Artem froze when he saw the device. Despite the acting, Lance could feel its eyes grow wide and alarmed for a brief second before swiftly composing itself. 

“What’s that?” Artem asked, trying to maintain the illusion of bewilderment. 

However, when it looked up at Hunk, the other boy was staring back at him with a critical expression. 

“Huh,” Hunk said, glancing over at Pidge before regarding Lance with another look. “You seemed pretty worried about the dewormer for someone who has never seen it before.” 

“The what?” Artem replied, with honest confusion. 

“It’s called a _shelenduk_ ,” Pidge corrected, pointing the nozzle of the device at Lance’s head. Artem just barely resisted wincing at the gesture. The machine resembled a radar gun, though it was bright green with yellow designs etched along the edges. “But I think dewormer is an appropriate translation, given that it’s designed to kill Xilonian slugs.” 

If Lance hadn’t already suspected the gun’s purpose, the thrill of terror that emanated from Artem would have done the trick. In the back of his own mind, Lance clung to this victory, silently cheering: _yes, yes, yes, KILL IT—_  

_I’ll kill them first_ , Artem promised, with rage burning bright in its mind. It twisted its hands behind its back, trying to find a loose angle to work with. _I’ll make sure they die slowly, and then who’ll be gloating?_  

Unaware of the internal struggle, Hunk continued, “It wasn’t easy to figure out. For the most part, you still acted like Lance. I mean, a few things were weird—” 

“Like how much he was eating,” Pidge cut in, making a face. 

“Yeah, and how he kept piling on sweets,” Hunk agreed. “But, y’know, whatever, people go through phases. It wasn’t until Keith mentioned that Red and Black were complaining that we started to get suspicious. It was really vague, but Yellow got pretty insistent, too.” 

“Green wouldn’t shut up about it,” Pidge said, staring down the nozzle at Lance. “And Allura says Blue was the worst of them all.” 

“After the Malarvan refugees warned us about the slugs they’d found, we knew it couldn’t be a coincidence,” said Hunk, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You made a mistake infesting someone from Team Voltron. Our Lions don’t appreciate their paladins being messed with.” 

Artem stared up at them with wide eyes, projecting hurt confusion. “Guys, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about! Please, untie me. I’m not infested by anything, I swear!” 

“Oh, well, if you _swear_ ,” Pidge mimicked, rolling her eyes. “Luckily, we don’t have to just guess. We can find out for sure right now.” 

Then, before Artem could react, she aimed the gun at Lance’s head and fired. 

A light flashed, leaving Artem blinking stars from its eyes, and then the device beeped. Pidge stared down at it with narrowed eyes. 

“Yep,” she concluded, lifting her head to glare at Artem while she showed Hunk the results. “There it is. Just like the Malarvan king warned us.” 

“The others are coming with them right now to make sure it gets safely disposed of, Lance,” Hunk said. It was the first time in three days that Lance felt like someone was actually seeing him, and he wanted to weep with joy. “Apparently these assholes can respawn if they get buried. But I saw it checking out the shuttle crafts and knew we couldn’t wait.” 

“No worries,” Pidge said, fiddling with the dial on the dewormer. “We can paralyze it in the meantime. That should loosen its connection on Lance’s brain enough that it leaves on its own. Then we just have to keep it sealed until the others get back.” 

She moved to point the gun at Lance again, but before she could aim, Artem made its move. With a searing flash of pain, it tore its hand free from the bindings and smacked the dewormer away from Pidge’s grasp. The weapon went flying. 

Pidge reeled back, eyes wide as she instinctively activated her bayard, but Artem was prepared for that. It snatched the bayard in both hands and kicked Pidge in the chest, sending her flying backwards as Artem ripped the bayard from her hand. There was a loud clatter as she collided with a workbench and toppled to the ground. 

Even it its fury, Lance could still feel Artem reveling in the adrenaline, a vicious grin on its face. 

It tossed the activated bayard aside just as Hunk swung at it, a much more immediate threat now that Pidge had been disarmed. Artem dodged, using Lance’s better agility to avoid the blow, and darted in between the tall racks of equipment to avoid being grabbed. 

As soon as Hunk followed him between the racks, Artem rapidly doubled back. The quick movement surprised Hunk just long enough for Artem to sneak a foot underneath him, tripping the larger boy with a sharp jerk.

Hunk landed heavily as Artem ducked around the racks again. Without waiting, Artem positioned itself in front of the first set of racks. A shot of alarm jolted through Lance as he realized what the monster was planning. Artem rammed into the racks with a full body check, heedless of the sharp pain that reverberated through its shoulder. 

The first set of racks tilted and fell down with a crash, crushing Hunk underneath them. 

_No!_ Lance cried out in his mind, horrified. 

He barely had any time to freak out before Artem spun around again, catching sight of Pidge just as she got to her bayard. Artem lunged forward and tackled her before she could snatch it up, growling viciously. 

_Oh god, no!_ Lance cried, fear radiating through his heart. _Oh god, don’t hurt her, don’t—!_  

Pidge struggled beneath the monster, lashing out with one hand and catching Artem across the face. Her fingernails scraped against its skin, but Artem paid no attention, using its longer reach to grab her arms and pin them to the ground. Pidge twisted and squirmed, but Artem had a good foot of height and over fifty pounds on her.

It straddled her, pinning her arms with its knees by the elbows and looming over her. She kicked, trying desperately to dislodge its weight, but she had no leverage and every attempt was fruitless. Lance could see horror dawn on her face when she realized she was trapped. 

“Not so confident now, are we?” Artem hissed. No longer bound by its need to disguise itself, the monster let vicious glee seep into its voice. “I think I’m going to enjoy this.” 

_Please, please, no,_ Lance cried, unable to look away. _Please, just knock her out and let her go. You can make it to the shuttle without killing her too, please stop—_  

Pidge’s eyes were bright with tears of fear, but she narrowed her eyes and struggled against Artem’s grip with furious determination. Despite her position, she snarled, “There’s no way you’re making it off this ship, _asshole_ —” 

Artem chuckled at her, contempt clear in its mind. Grinning darkly, it leaned forward to whisper in her ear. 

“You should hear Lance in here. Begging and pleading, _oh no, please don’t hurt them_ ,” Artem said, lips brushing against her skin. Pidge pulled as far away as she could, but Artem pressed its hands to her neck, pinning her flat to the ground. Viciously, it said, “I’m going to enjoy strangling you with his bare hands.” 

Its grip tightened around her neck, choking the air from her throat. Pidge’s eyes went wide, fighting with renewed vigor as her airway was blocked, but Artem’s grip was unyielding. It clung on tight, skin turning white around its grip, and Pidge gasped breathlessly as she tried to fight. 

Lance watched in horror as Pidge’s struggles slowly faded, eyes rolling to the back of her head— 

Without warning, an electric shock rang through him, sending a wave of pain through his entire body and making everything shudder. Artem screamed out as electricity ran up its spine and down its arms, spilling over onto Pidge and making her seize. Artem toppled over, vision growing hazy, and just barely caught sight of Hunk standing above it, Pidge’s activated bayard in his hands. 

Before it could recover, Hunk straddled Artem. He pinned its arms by its side with his knees, glaring down at Artem even as blood dripped from a vicious gash on the side of his head. Looking more furious than Lance had ever seen, Hunk pressed a heavy hand to Artem’s neck, hissing, “How do _you_ like being pinned down, dickface?”

Artem’s eyes went wide, but before it could reply, Hunk pulled the dewormer from the ground beside him. Without waiting another second, he put the nozzle to Artem’s head and fired. 

Everything went black.

 

 

-

 

 

Lance shuddered when he regained awareness, the cold steel of the floor radiating through his clothes. His senses felt out of control, as though every single one was dialed up to eleven. 

Beside him, Lance could hear Hunk pleading, “Oh, god, Pidge, are you okay? Please wake up—” 

Lance turned his head toward the sound, opening his eyes to see Hunk cradling Pidge’s limp form in his arms. As he watched, Pidge groaned and coughed, drawing in a few wheezing breaths as she reached a hand up to touch her neck. Lance caught a glimpse of swollen red skin that was already darkening into a bruise. 

He stared for a moment longer before abruptly realizing that he was the one doing the movement. 

He was in control again. 

The monster was gone. 

Lance gasped and shot up, reaching his hands up to grasp at his head. Beside him, Hunk and Pidge jerked in alarm, but Lance just trembled, every muscle tight with panic that had been building for the past three days. 

“Oh god, oh god, _oh god_ ,” Lance whispered, horror distorting his voice. He looked around rapidly, desperate to prove that he was safe. It took a few moments, but he soon caught sight of a tiny gray slug lying motionless on the steel floor. “ _Oh god, it was inside me—!”_

Lance broke off as nausea overtook him. He doubled over and vomited, shaking all the while, reveling in his newfound freedom and reeling at the memories of the past three days. It had been inside him, dominating his every movement, sneering at every desperate cry, digging through every thought and memory until Lance felt tainted down to his very soul. The mere memory of it was enough to make his stomach twist again, and he gagged, bringing up just enough to make stomach acid burn in his throat. 

Strong arms suddenly wrapped around him, holding him firmly against a broad chest. Lance trembled, breathing in Hunk’s scent and clinging back as tightly as he could. Beside them, Pidge grabbed Lance’s uninjured hand, intertwining their fingers and resting her forehead against Lance’s arm. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Lance whispered, too shattered to do much more than cry. 

“It’s okay, we got you,” Hunk said, his voice a warm blanket of comfort. “You’re safe, we stopped it. Everything’s going to be fine—” 

“It was going to kill you all, it was going to—,” Lance couldn’t finish the thought, horror freezing his throat yet again. The memory of blood-filled halls flashed in his mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out.

“We’re here, you’re safe,” Pidge promised, gripping his hand. Her voice was weak and scratchy from being strangled. _Oh god, I hurt her. I hurt them both._ Tears burned in his eyes even as he clenched them shut, pressing his face against Hunk’s shoulder. 

“We’re not leaving,” Hunk assured him. 

They sat there until the others returned, long after Lance’s panic had faded and the toll of the last three days had stolen all energy from his bones. By the time the slug was secured, his trembles had faded enough that Lance almost felt normal again. 

Almost. 

Lance stared at the patch of steel floor where Artem had fallen and suppressed a shudder. The spot was clean, but in his mind, Lance still felt like slimy fingers were creeping along the wrinkles of his brain. 

He’d never feel normal again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> guess whose formative years were spent reading about body-snatching slugs invading Earth? go on, guess :D 
> 
> many thanks to K.A. Applegate & the Animorphs series for scarring me for life. For anyone familiar with the series: yes, Lance was infested for three days for very specific Reasons. :P
> 
> in any case, I wanted to explore the potential dark sides to exploring the universe, so hopefully this story achieved that. I guess I am not immune from wanting Lance whump after all. At least Hunk & Pidge got to save the day? -_-;; Poor Lance, fic writers just never give him a break.
> 
> all the thanks to MaliciousWays for reviewing this fic & telling me what to fix in order to make it better. You are always the best, even when I surprise you with a horror story.
> 
> Happy Halloween in advance, everyone. Hope this story was appropriately terrifying for y’all. <3


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